The Metamorphosis of Man
by L.Bronte
Summary: A man is not born into hatred. Hatred develops from pain. Though a man may begin as a prince, a woman can make him a tyrant. Primus and Septimus were born competitors, but they died vengeful, blood-soaked rivals. Rivals for the love of a woman.
1. A Humbling Beginning

Disclaimer: Stardust is mostly certainly not my property. That would be rather nice though, don't you fancy?

Summary: A man is not born into hatred. Hatred develops from pain. Though a man may begin as a prince, a woman can make him a tyrant. The youngest and eldest of the Princes of Stormhold were born competitors, but they died vengeful, blood-soaked rivals. Rivals for the love of a woman.

_Author's Note:_ I adore Stardust. It was one of the greatest films I've seen in ages. Though I have also read the graphic novel, this story is Movie Based.

_L. Bronte_

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**Chapter 1: A Horribly Humbling Beginning**

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Madame Sacrine's Home for Orphaned Girls was situated just outside the village of Wall. It was, in fact, situated exactly halfway between the village itself and its namesake. One dying afternoon, near the closing of spring, the Madame herself was calling the girls in for supper.

"I had best see every last one of you girls at the table within the next five minutes or each of you shall bring me a switch with which to mark your palms!" She crowed at the youths in careful warning.

They all heeded her, and scurried to arrange themselves at the dinner table, every girl arriving in time. The Madame appraised them all before saying lightly, "Eat well ladies, I have a surprise in store for you tonight," She smiled widely around the entire table, "The lot of you may go straight off to bed after dinner."

Each girl grew silent as smiles spread across their faces.

"That's right," The Madame went on while clasping her hands together, "No more working on clothes today! If all of you are especially polite during supper, the best of you shall receive another surprise." With that she sighed and selected a slice of bread from her plate with spindly twig-like digits. The children cheerily sampled the gruel and self grown tomatoes before them.

Once the meal had come to a close the Madame chose the two girls who would wash the dishes that night. "Celia! Maddy! Go wash these things and you shall have your reward for being my favourite girls." She turned toward the other girls, "The rest of you ought to be off to bed as quickly as possible."

While the others scampered off, Celia and Madeleine gathered the dirtied things and commenced cleansing. Celia, a slight redhead of 14, had been at the home for only two years. She was sent there when her parents were caught in a fire that consumed their home. 'Maddy,' who was fair and small, was seven years Celia's junior and incomparably quiet. Her mother and father died of consumption within months of each other; she was still in swaddling clothes when she arrived at the orphanage.

Both girls had been wary of any kindness exhibited by the Madame, because while she was not unkind – Her temper was foul when provoked. Celia, nor Maddy could be said to be the best girls in the house; they were not the youngest nor oldest; they were not the handsomest nor the homeliest.

They had only just finished their work when the Madame approached them. "Now, I've brought down both of your girl's finest little frocks. It's best you put them on straight away," Madame whispered while glancing about.

"Is this our surprise?" Celia wondered, feeling slightly robbed.

"No, no, no. Tonight, you two are going to be adopted!" Madame clapped her hands over her heart. "If you two can be your sweetest, gentlest, and most compliant selves, I'm certain you'll be adopted." She patted Maddy's blonde, tangled mane, "I'll brush that out for you, dear."

Maddy smiled, the kindness was enough to put her at ease.

"Why didn't they come earlier in the day to adopt us?" Celia inquired impatiently.

"None of your defiance, do you understand? If you ruin this, it's straight to the city with you!" Maddy looked frightened at this outburst and the Madame calmed. "They didn't want to take you in front of the others. They felt it would've broken their hearts."

"Who's 'they'?" Celia tried.

"Stop that now! Put on your dress!"

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They continued to prepare, and then they waited. Celia watched as the clock struck 11:00 and a heavy pounding started on the front door.

"That'll be them. Remember, best behaviour," Madame Sacrine opened the door and ushered them out to be intercepted by a tall, shadowed man who motioned for them to follow him. "Go on, it's all right."

They walked away from the small Home for Orphaned Girls until it was no longer visible, and then Celia saw a light. It was coming from the inside of a large carriage in the middle of a forest path. The shadow man opened the carriage door and helped the girls inside.

Within sat a handsome young man in a top hat and a navy velvet coat. "Good evening," He said charmingly. "You'll be Celia and Madeleine then?"

"Yes, sir," Celia replied with a passable smile as the carriage began to move.

"The pair of you are quite lovely little creatures," He grinned widely.

"Thank you very much, sir," Celia blushed.

"Please, call me Geoffrey." He looked at Maddy, "Doesn't she speak?"

"Very little, sir- Geoffrey. Besides, Maddy is awfully frightened of nighttime and new people," Celia hugged Maddy to her.

"That's terrible. Come sit next to me, Maddy. You'll see I'm not so very frightening," He cooed to her warmly.

Maddy looked to Celia worriedly before moving across the carriage to sit near Geoffrey. He put his arm around her and held her snugly against him. She nuzzled into his soft, velvet coat, and fell asleep. Soon after, Celia slept as well on the other side of the carriage.

Maddy awoke to a shriek in the cold. Above her was the lined ceiling of a carriage. She looked for the source of the distress. She saw Celia twisting herself, attempting to pull free from where she was strapped to a handle on the side of the carriage. Her gown was shredded up the front. "Leave her alone! Maddy!" She cried over and over. The man who called himself Geoffrey was sitting next to her on the floor. Maddy found that her dress was also ripped. She began to squirm but made no sound. Geoffrey straddled the child to easily stem her movements.

Celia continued to scream, "Come here! Come here again! Just stop, just leave her alone!"

Geoffrey glared back at her, "I'll put her in pain you can't imagine if you don't stop!" She ceased, but continued weeping. He turned back to Maddy, "There, not even a whisper from Maddy. Good girl, Maddy. I knew you would be sweet to me, Maddy." He began touching her and Maddy looked at the ceiling and tried to think of something else.

When she felt velvet on her skin, she looked back at Geoffrey. He was removing his clothes. At the removal of his shirt she could see how soft and pale he was. She thought he was pretty and pale, and soft and disgusting.

Then he began to lower Maddy's pantalets, and Celia kicked out hard at him, nailing him in the back of the head. He rolled off of Maddy and recoiled for a moment. Maddy raced over to free Celia; she managed to loosen one hand before Geoffrey grabbed hold of her again.

"Be good, Maddy. Be good and I'll take you home, Maddy," He growled before Celia caught him round the throat with the belt he'd used to restrain her. She shoved him forward while pulling back until he gagged. He jerked her backwards into Maddy and they fell into the carriage door. Maddy glanced at the handle for a moment and then flung the door open wide. She and Celia tumbled out and continued to plummet down a steep forest hill. Maddy felt she rolled for hours.

When she had finally stopped, she immediately began a search for Celia. After a few moments of walking cautiously uphill, she thought she saw the hem of Celia's gown in the darkness. Maddy clambered up to her friend, and found that she did not move. She sat still in helplessness until she heard someone calling her name.

It was Geoffrey, "Maddy! Maddy, my girl! Where are you, Maddy!" Her name from his lips caused her to cringe with each utterance.

She panicked. Celia would not wake. She rolled her over and saw Celia's face drained of blood. It was leaking out of a grotesque wound in her throat. Another large gouge was laid into the side of her head. The moonlight showed the younger girl the deathly gore that lay upon her friend, her friend who had fought with her last moments to save her. She did not move. She did not breathe. And Maddy could not wait.

She ran as fast and as far as her legs would carry her. She wanted to tell someone, anyone where Celia was. She ran to the end of the forest and down to the wall. She hopped over a place where the wall had crumbled, and commenced running once more. She was back in a forest and her legs began to fill with molten lead. Aches shot through her body and her lungs began to fail. All of her hope was waning, but then... She found a light. A campfire was burning bright in a clearing. Men were gathered all about, speaking loudly. Flags were flying about the perimeter of the camp.

The girl realized her gown hung open, she adjusted it the best she could. Something inside her hesitated when she needed to call out for help. Her courage swelled and she began to step out from the trees when she was snatched from behind. Her first reaction was to shut down, but as she was lifted off of the ground she gave a hell raising cry, "MURDER!"

The voices of men round the campfire stopped. Geoffrey slapped Maddy, and started back toward the wall. Everything remained silent until Geoffrey suddenly stopped moving.

"Release the child," Maddy heard a dark voice whisper behind them. She was set down. She turned and saw that a man had a knife to Geoffrey's throat, while six other men had their weapons drawn around them. She could see none of their faces, but was not afraid. She felt that they were angels. "Briggs, escort the child to camp," She heard the same voice order.

"Yes, sir," Briggs answered, before picking Maddy up in his arms and carrying her back toward the fire. He lowered her down and pulled a blanket over her shoulders. Rustling came from the forest as the men returned, Geoffrey was bound and prodded forward at the point of a sword. They stopped at the edge of the trees.

"Briggs, question the girl," The dark voice ordered.

"Who are you and who is that man?" Briggs asked her gently.

Maddy looked at him with tears in her timid eyes.

"Who are y-"

"I'm Madeleine..." She whispered in sad little voice.

"And he is?"

"He said 'Geoffrey'."

"What's this about a murder?" He went on.

"Celia."

"Was Celia your sister?" He wondered while looking to the trees.

"No, we were at the same orphanage. Our Madame said that he would adopt us, but..." She stopped and cried.

"'But'?"

"He tried to hurt us, he tore our clothes, and pulled down our... Skirts. Celia, we have to find her..." She sobbed.

"We will, but first you must tell me what happened to Celia."

"When we fell out of the carriage, she hit her head and her throat was awfully torn," She cried again. "She wouldn't wake. . ."

"Well, Briggs?" The voice called from the trees as Geoffrey whimpered. Maddy strained to make out the shapes at the edge of the trees.

"It's as the girl said, he's a murderer! Raped the two of them, he did! And the other one didn't make it!" Briggs shouted out to the voice and then patted Maddy's back.

Maddy watched the motionless figures against the forest. Suddenly something moved swiftly and the whistle of a blade sliced through the air.

"MADDY!" Geoffrey cried out as he fell to his knees while clutching his groin. A second movement of the man with the voice's blade and Geoffrey's head rolled back into the forest. The man cleaned the blade on the corpse's navy velvet coat and returned to camp.

"At ease, men. Hope for no more surprises," He ordered before sitting at the fire across from Maddy.

She could see her protector then, illuminated by the flames. His face was handsome and dark, and hard and divine. He gave her a smile she could sense was rarely used.

"Where did you say the other girl's body was?" He asked bluntly.

"She is in the forest, on the other side of the wall-"

"That cretinous nonce! Taking you to that side of the wall!" He regarded her with dark eyes, "Only monsters and fools cross the wall. We cannot retrieve the other."

"Her name is Celia," She scolded softly.

"Well, she is avenged, your Celia. That is all I can do for her, girl," He admitted.

"I am Mad... Madeleine, not 'girl'. And I thank you, sir, for saving me."

"It's the most amusing hunt I've attended," He grinned back at the corpse near the trees. "You'll be escorted home-"

"I'm an orphan. My Madame, I think she sold me to him."

"As it is... You will return with us to my palace. From there a place shall be found for you." He looked up to the stars.

The man felt a tug at his sleeve. Little Madeleine looked up to him, "'Palace'? Your 'palace'?"

"Of course."

"Are you a king?" She wondered.

He scoffed and shook his head at the tiny child, "No, I am Prince Septimus, seventh son of the seventh son, and heir to the throne of Stormhold."

"I've never met anyone of consequence before. Are you truly a prince?" She stared at him with drooping eyes.

"You'll be pressed to find anyone else that would freely decapitate a man in the middle of the forest without fear of consequence," He chuckled.

"That's a 'yes'?"

"That's a 'yes'."

Madeleine yawned and tilted her head into the man next to her. She burrowed her head into his coat of rough leather. "Good night, prince..."

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"Madeleine, wake up now! You've got Prince Primus' horse to tend to!"


	2. There and Back Again

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

Summary: A man is not born into hatred. Hatred develops from pain. Though a man may begin as a prince, a woman can make him a tyrant. The youngest and eldest of the Princes of Stormhold were born competitors, but they died vengeful, blood-soaked rivals. Rivals for the love of a woman.

Author's Note: Chapter 2, please review.

_L. Bronte_

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**Chapter 2: There and Back Again**

_"Madeleine, wake up now! You've got Prince Primus' horse to tend to!"_

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Her eyes flashed open. "OH! Owen, thank you!" She called back through her bedroom door. Madeleine rolled out of bed and grabbed the first dress she touched.

"Now, he is one of the princes, so try to look your best, Madeleine," Owen suggested.

She laughed heartily, "Shall I be married off to a prince of Stormhold then, is that your agenda?" She pulled on her second boot and wrangled her curls back from her face.

"It is only respectful, Madeleine," The old man huffed as she exited her room, appearing quite as casual as she pleased.

"I'll show him respect, for your sake." Madeleine kissed Owen on the cheek, "I'd best go and wait for him." She made her way out of the cottage she shared with Owen on the grounds of the Stormhold palace. Her fingers ran along the whitewashed wooden fence of the corral and she waited at the gate for the prince to arrive. She glanced out for a great while and saw nothing but flat earth and great mountains in the distance.

After an hour or so of waiting she grew tired of watching the vast emptiness ahead of her. She unlatched the gate as she had many times before, and ran to jump on it. The gate swung wide and fast on its hinges and she felt like she was flying. She pushed off of the fence and spread her arms wide. Again and again she sailed back and forth, oblivious to the world around her.

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Primus was fast approaching Stormhold palace. Though his visit was announced, not a soul knew the circumstances for his appearance. Some assumed he had come to kill off one of his brothers, others feared a trap from one of the said brothers. The truth however was that the king had summoned him. The prince himself did not know the nature of his summons.

He traveled alone, with God by his side. He found himself approaching the palace near sunset. Then he saw her, riding on the gate, her light brown hair fanning out behind her. She had her arms spread like an angel.

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Madeleine had been drifting for quite a time, when she thought she saw something. She hopped dizzily off of the gate and saw the prince, high on his horse.

"Your highness!" She exclaimed before dropping to her knees.

"Stand, please, stand," He laughed at her. "You'll be here to take my horse then?"

"Yes, my liege," She stood with her eyes to the dirt.

Primus climbed down from his seat and caught Madeleine's chin, "I'm trusting you with my greatest friend, be good to him." He took hold of her hands and placed the reigns in them. "What is your name?"

"Madeleine, your highness."

"Pretty Madeleine, should I see you again, and I shall, call me Primus," He winked at her before making his way into the palace.

Madeleine watched as he was intercepted by palace aides. She smiled and stabled his horse, then returned to her cottage. Owen was sitting in his armchair when she opened the door.

"Oh, Madeleine, good," Owen cried as though he thought she might never have returned. "I have to set out into the palace to take care of some business with the latest foals. You understand. I've set dinner on the table." He quickly kissed her forehead and exited. She watched him from the window for a moment. He was such a fragile person, even when she had first come to Stormhold he was quite old. He was kind and loved Madeleine liken to his own daughter.

Madeleine walked to the kitchen table, once she was seated she noticed something odd. The other side of the table was set and dished as well.

"He was in quite a rush..." She mumbled.

The sound of footsteps in the rooms above startled her. The steps descended the stairs and she tried to calm herself. She could not run, for the stairs were too near the door in order for her to escape from an intruder. She felt around the butcher's block and grabbed a pairing knife.

"You there! On the stairs! I hear you! Come near me and I'll spill your guts all over this floor!" She shouted in her most fearsome manner.

"My 'guts', huh?" She heard a familiar voice say.

She lowered the blade, "Who's there?" She asked with a smirk on her face.

"Someone who surely should not be spoken to in such a manner by a peasant," Prince Septimus rounded the corner into the small kitchen's doorway. He stood there strong and dark, as Madeleine remembered him. She stared at him and they stood in silence.

Suddenly, Madeleine fell to her knees, "Forgive, my lord. Had I known it was you, I never would have spoken so boldly. May I assist you? Sir Owen has gone into the palace. May I offer you-"

"Stop," He ordered. "I've not seen you in five years and this is how you receive me?" He grinned and gave a low scoff. "First you threaten me, and then you are my slave? I wonder what has made you so changeable?"

"Twelve year old girls can hardly be expected to know their place, sir," She explained to him.

"Your place may be left for me to decide," He told her. He then drifted toward the table and pulled out her chair. "Your seat is here, at this table... For the moment."

"Thank you, your grace."

"No, no. _Septimus_." He seated himself across from her.

"This is beneath you, Prince Septimus. Please don't trouble yourself with such inferior-"

"STOP THIS!" He roared. "What has happened to you? It's Owen, isn't it?"

"Five years is a long time. You are a prince and you must be given the proper respect. Owen was good and taught me that a prince does not bend himself to a little girl's whims." She looked down.

"I am a prince, but also a man," Septimus began quietly. "A man who saved a little girl in the darkness of the forest. A man who assumed that girl would always be grateful. A man who is constantly dogged by assassins and traitors. A man who thought a girl would not betray him as so many others have done. A man who thought you to be innocent and true." He sighed, "Perhaps I was wrong."

"No!" Madeleine stated defiantly. "I will not betray you, Septimus. It is only that... You said yourself, assassins and traitors are always after you. Owen has made me see that I'll likely lose you if I grow too close to you." Her light eyes of blue and gray watched him softly.

"Perhaps he is jealous of me, then?" Septimus suggested.

"For your ears only, I will admit that I would have liked you for a father as well. Perhaps then you would not be away from me so very long," She giggled at him and he saw that she was something like herself again.

"This is foolish talk, let us continue with the task at hand," Septimus motioned for her to begin eating.

Though Madeleine knew that Septimus did not take offense to her meager meal or home, she could not help but feel inadequate to receive a prince. Five years had been a very long time indeed. Behind her soft and welcoming eyes she wondered whether she had changed from the girl Septimus saved in the forest. Owen had planted a vast amount of lessons in propriety into her head. She studied him as he ate. _Why did he come here before announcing himself at the palace?_ She thought. As she looked his way she attempted to skew her vision so that his presence would blend with the small cottage around him. She found it impossible to mesh them.

His eyes caught hers in their study and she quickly started into the food on her plate. Her overall manner was undeniably tense. He had always thought that children had no conscience, they would speak their minds and show no nerves. The Madeleine sitting across from him appeared to tremble at his presence. The Madeleine across from him had considered his title and not his character. She had thought and rationalized and made well known that the view points of others were to be imposed upon her. The Madeleine across from him was a new Madeleine that had been conditioned by the rules of Stormhold society and she understood those rules well. She had grown from the child he had watched over; her troubles were carried very plainly on her face. He wondered what could be done to see childhood in her once more.

They finished and sat silently with one another, both unable to find appropriate words for their awkward circumstance. Both were continuing to assess the other in the secret silence of their minds.

"I shall clear these then, Your- Septimus," She went to take his things first. "Excuse me," She whispered while reaching in front of him to grab his plate.

Septimus noticed she had the scent of smoke about her. It lightly lingered after she had gone to fetch her own things. She placed the used dishes in a basin, but then sat back at the table without looking at them further.

When she looked at him again he was staring at the basin. "I don-don't wash dishes," She stuttered quietly. "What shall you do now then?"

"I was assuming you would invite me into your sitting room," He told her.

"Yes, yes, of course. If you please," She stood and curtsied, "My home is your home... Quite literally."

As Septimus passed her he offered his arm and they made their way to the tiny sitting room.

Madeleine blushed crimson.

"Are you ill?" He asked, concerned.

"It's so very small," She breathed.

"Then I am glad it is the two of us and not some grand party of people, Madeleine," He tried to console her as they sat on the timeworn sofa.

"I shall start a fire before we settle ourselves," She crawled off of the sofa and directly onto the nearby hearth and began building a fire.

Without shame she was on her knees in the soot and ash playing with fire. At first Septimus had felt it was wrong to watch a lady work so, but in her task he found the shameless, unabashed child within her. Ash caught on her light blue, cotton sleeves and smoke enveloped her as she completed the fire. He knew why she smelled of smoke.

"There, now we shant have a chance of feeling the cold," She told him triumphantly while patting the ash off of her sleeves and knees.

"Well done."

Madeleine once more sat on the sofa with Septimus.

"What have you done these last five years, Madeleine?" He inquired.

"I've stabled and trained horses," She thought for a moment, "That's all. And I've had lessons of course, Owen believes in education of all things. What about you, if you don't mind?"

"Oh, five years, how could I tell you of my travels in one night? I've been everywhere, Madeleine," He paused. "I've been to every place in the kingdom and I still haven't found her."

"Una? Oh, Septimus," She touched his arm, "No one's been able to find her. Every soldier in the castle has served in the search for her at one time or another. It isn't your fault, Septimus."

He turned somber, "You've no idea the guilt my father can make one feel; the evil he possesses. I don't know what I was trying to achieve, even if by some miracle I did find her, he wouldn't give credit to me. He wouldn't feel any different toward me." He stared at her altered, yet familiar face, "We sons were made for blood sport and death and the games our elders played for hundreds of years before us. I am a pawn and should not like to be one for much longer." He remained silent.

"Septimus," She felt it the right time to ask him. Her hand folded into his, "Why have you come unannounced? What is your business here?"

His eyes closed, "I wanted to avoid attempts on my life. Also, I've come to find out what business Primus has here."

"Do you think anyone knows you're here?" She wondered.

"Why don't we stop this depressing banter?" He forced a smile, "There was a place that I visited in my travels that I particularly felt was of importance. Do you remember the place where we met?"

"Oh, yes," She kissed his hand, "How could I forget that forest? Especially with the memory of you in your most magnificent, chivalrous splendor."

"At every turn you try to flatter me, Madeleine. I feel myself ill-equipped for speaking kindly of others. But I will tell you what I have honestly observed: Everyday, from the day we met you have grown a little more beautiful." He ran his hand through her waves of golden brown hair. "I've brought you something, it's there by the door," He pointed out a thin rectangular box wrapped in brown paper. "Go ahead and bring it here."

She did as he asked, "I did not expect any gift, Septimus," She tried to say humbly, but her excitement was too apparent for him to believe she didn't want the gift.

"I found it in the market town. Owen told me earlier today that it wasn't necessary... But I'd already brought it here. Please, open it," He forced her fingers under the paper. She began to rip the wrapping away and found a case within. Feeling she knew what it was, she flipped the latches open impatiently and lifted the lid. Inside rested a beautifully perfect violin.

"Oh! Oh!" She threw herself around Septimus and rocked her cheek into his chest. "It's the most beautiful thing in the entire world!" She whispered happily.

"Owen said that you already had one and that two would just spoil you," He pulled her away to look at her excitement. "I decided to spoil you."

"My other is... Slightly used, Septimus. This appears to have never been played, it's so beautiful. Oh, I shall never it play it. It shall always look just so," She promised.

"Nonsense, play it for me now. Let me hear what talent I'm fostering," He placed the instrument in her hands.

"Er... Yes, just allow me to tune it," She smiled weakly.

She began fiddling with the pegs and playing terrible sounding notes. Septimus felt the expectations of her talent shrink within him. She pulled the bow across a few more times, and then swiped it across the rosin within the case.

"All right, I've been playing with three strings on my other for about eight months now, so..." She nervously wiped her forehead, but stood straight as she could. She drew the bow across the strings in her first note, her hand shook wildly, and the note came out admirably. The music continued for quite a time. Madeleine's face was that of perfect composure as she grew used to the wonderful tone of the perfect instrument in her hand. Her selection began slow and somber, then became dangerous and quick, and then it was triumphant. The amateur solo ended in a culmination of melancholy with a high note. Madeleine stopped and placed the violin back in it's case.

"What were you playing?" He wondered, pleased but not quite in awe of her skill.

"A piece that I wrote myself," She joined him once more, sitting closer, "I call it _Childhood_."

"You end it so helplessly."

"There is no helping the ending of childhood," She explained.

"You're clever, I knew that would happen." He put his arm around her, "I knew you would make a life worth living out the life I was able to fashion for you. After everything that happened-"

"Stop, Septimus..." She hushed him and pulled his arm tighter about her. "Childhood is dead, remember?"

He ran his hand over her hair lightly. She buried her face in his chest. He considered what she had just said, and something in his mind began a process of change. He had wanted so much to find the remainders of the child she was that he had not begun to embrace any pieces of the person she had become. She was incredibly altered as many children who grow up are. Her new persona, he felt, could certainly be just as appealing as the old. Where a silly child had been, there was now a place for a true comrade. Even as a girl she was one of the only people he had ever trusted. There was something he had been hesitant to ask of her, he had gone so long without a proper companion on his travels. Hers was the first friendly face he could think of, and a prince, as well as any man, needed to be entertained. He would have remained in her cottage for a time were it not for his insatiable hatred of domestication. He preferred constant travel, the life of a nomad. He felt that walls were only ever built to confine.

Owen had already consented to loosing her for a fortnight, her acceptance was the only element he required.

"Madeleine, come with me. I'm traveling again tomorrow. I've set my spies throughout the palace to watch my brother. Come traveling with me," His quiet request went unanswered. "Madeleine?"

Septimus assumed she had fallen asleep, and he shifted her in his arms so that he could look upon her face. Her eyes were opened slightly, but she was not entirely awake. She looked at him hazily and whispered, "All right, if you wouldn't mind me... Good night, prince..."


	3. Journey

Disclaimer: Stardust is mostly certainly not my property. That would be rather nice though, don't you fancy?

**Summary:** A man is not born into hatred. Hatred develops from pain. Though a man may begin as a prince, a woman can make him a tyrant. The youngest and eldest of the Princes of Stormhold were born competitors, but they died vengeful, blood-soaked rivals. Rivals for the love of a woman.

_**Author's Note:**_ So... One review... Thank you very much for that. I'm still going, because I adore Stardust. 67 hits, Christ Almighty... Love, peace, thug life!!

_L. Bronte_

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**Chapter 3: Journey**

Ungodly early the next morning, Madeleine awoke to find Septimus shaking her shoulder, "Yes?"

"We must leave now, before the sun rises. My men are ready to go," He tossed her one of her cotton dresses and a black riding cloak.

"Go? Where?" She could only vaguely remember his proposal, "Oh, Septimus, I've not packed anything for a journey."

"It's been done for you. While you slept. Now come, make yourself suitable. We'll be waiting downstairs," Septimus informed her and made his way down the steps.

"I don't even get up this early to do chores!" She whispered harshly, and pulled her dress over her head. When she slipped into the riding cloak, she had to hoist it up to the ankle in order not to trip down the stairway. As she made her way down, several pairs of legs came into view.

Once she'd reached the bottom, she saw that all of Septimus' guard was standing in her den. They all towered over her as they turned to look.

Septimus gave her the smallest hint of a smile that he dared in front of the men, "Right, we're set then."

Madeleine gave a tiny wave and very quietly told the entire guard, "Hello..."

"Come Madeleine," Septimus ordered and she followed him out of the cottage first. He charged swiftly in the direction opposite of Primus' arrival, toward the entrance of the small forest near the palace. "Cullen!"

"Yes, Your Highness," Answered a man whom Madeleine had previously not noticed amongst the throng of men. He rushed up to walk on Septimus' right side. He was undoubtedly the smallest of the very large men, but was still much bigger than Madeleine. It was difficult to see him on the other side of Septimus, but the fact that the whole guard was bundled to the teeth didn't help seeing this 'Cullen' either.

"Cullen, this is Madeleine Lennox, protect her with your life, or it'll be your head," Septimus growled.

"Quite right, Your Highness," Replied Cullen, almost happily.

"Madeleine, this is Archibald Cullen, head of my guard, and the only man I've ever thought about trusting. He will protect you in the event that I am away attending to business or if I am... otherwise indisposed," Septimus told her as they entered the forest. A great numbers of horses were waiting just inside for them. All black as night, of course.

After Septimus had assisted Madeleine onto her horse, (though she told him it was unnecessary), the guard mounted. Then she felt something tugging at her saddle from behind, she turned to see the top of Cullen's hat. He was checking all of the saddle bags and straps. When he was finished he looked up at her. He was the single most beautiful man she would ever see in her life. His skin glowed in the darkness of the forest. His well-browed, wide eyes shone a well of blue. His mouth was as soft as any woman's may have been. She felt her stomach tighten to look at someone so beautiful. He smiled sweetly at her and mounted the horse next to her own. His smile expanded the whole width of his face.

She could find only one flaw with him. _How can he be the head of Septimus' guard?_ She asked herself. _He is far too comely, too small to provide me any defense. If anything should go wrong, I'll be dead, and so will the beautiful man next to me._

"Septimus?" Madeleine called softly in the darkness.

"Yes?"

"Where are we going?" She realized she'd thought nothing about the journey, and was not all-in-all sure she wanted to go.

"We'll ride silently until we reach the center of the forest on the south side of the palace. Once we've passed half way through, we'll rest then continue on and reach our destination by night fall," He assured her.

"Where is our destination?" She asked more urgently.

"You'll discover where it is we're going when we get there," Was all he would tell her. And then he gave the order to ride. They were swiftly off across the grounds. Eight black horses in the blackness before dawn tore across the darkness for the trees.

Madeleine loved the ride, she'd never ridden to travel before. Never for the thrill, only to work. She tried as hard as she could not to look at Archibald Cullen, but it was difficult not to look at someone right beside you. His eyes constantly whipped over the terrain, watching for foul play. _Look at me!_ She thought suddenly.

And he did.

She smiled stupidly as he surveyed the land behind her. He, in fact, had looked _toward_ her and not _at_ her. But he did catch her ridiculous smile and raised a humourous brow.

She then looked up toward Septimus, leading the herd. Back off of his left flank, Madeleine could see his serious profile as they bounded toward their unknown destination. _Look at me!_ She thought again. _Look at me..._

His stared dead ahead.

* * *

They rode on without interruption into the forest. The sun rose and climbed higher into the sky. And then, quite without warning, Septimus stopped.

"Your Highness?" Cullen inquired.

"An hour of rest, tend the horses," He dismounted, "Cullen, we must be there by night fall."

"As you wish, Your Highness," Cullen answered obediently.

Septimus walked over to another member of his guard and they began to talk of arrangements and safety perimeters.

"Miss Lennox, would you care for your canteen?" A sweet voice asked from behind her.

"Oh, yes, please-" She began as she turned. Cullen was already holding it out to her. "Thank you, Mr. Cullen."

He pulled a horse blanket from a pack and placed it on the ground before her, "If it would please you?" He made a bow and she knew he was the most graceful man she'd ever seen as well.

"Oh, yes, thank you," She replied, sitting.

He sat next to her and began emptying the pack he carried of its food stuffs. "Meat, fruit, wine," He indicated as he removed things, "And especially for you, Madeleines." He produced the tiny cakes from a kerchief.

"Wonderful!" She exclaimed, "My favourite! How did you know?"

"When Prince Septimus told Sir Owen his plan to bring you along, Owen informed me they would keep you happy and complacent throughout," He laughed dearly.

"You did well to listen to him, sir," She joked, "Without them I become something of a witch."

He looked at her hesitantly, then laughed again.

"These are the most delicious Madeleines I've ever sampled, thank you," She complimented.

Cullen grinned, "I am yours to command, Miss Lennox."

"Madeleine, please, not one soul I can think of calls me 'Miss Lennox'," She asked of him offhandedly as she began eating.

"Then you should be made to call me Archibald in return. Only the Prince calls me Cullen," He lowered his voice in jest, "And he knows how I despise it." He too dug into the small feast before them.

When they were finishing Septimus approached them, "How are you riding, Madeleine?"

"Very well, indeed," She smiled up at him.

"Will you play something for the men?" Septimus wondered.

Madeleine felt sick.

"Oh, kindly do," Archibald urged her.

She gaped at Septimus, "I haven't an instrument to play-" As the words left her mouth, Archibald held her violin case out to her. "Why, thank you."

"Quiet men!" Septimus called.

They all stared at Madeleine in anticipation. No tunes came to mind. None at all. She could play, but not _very_ well. Without a proper teacher she knew very few songs, having little sheet music.

But she loved jigs. She had a 100-page book of jigs. As so, without further thought, she played her favourite little jig.

The men smiled at the happy little tune. She played through a few songs and everyone agreed it was far better entertainment than they had all endured before.

Septimus caught her arm as she was ready to mount, "Tonight, I beg you, play me something you've written yourself."

"Of course," She agreed and then mounted.

* * *

Again they set off, slowly through the forest, then swiftly once more across the open plain. Night slowly descended upon the travelers. They rode on and on, until finally a dull buzzing could be heard and tiny lights could be seen.

They slowed as they neared and Madeleine looked to Archibald, "That's the Market Town!"

He flashed a grin at her before coming to a stop. Everyone lead their horses inside on foot.

Madeleine attempted not to gape at the alien objects and people around her, but gave up easily. Exotic animals, potions, enchantments, ingredients for bewitchments and so many other inconceivable things. And the colours, they were vibrant, even as the light began to dim. The people, the stands, everything seemed a rainbow of colours. Her eyes fell on a rack of beautiful gowns and she absently walked toward them.

Archibald grabbed her arm lightly, "No," He said simply.

She then saw the owner of the stall and understood, he was a disgusting looking man. A wretch if she ever saw one, seedy and greasy.

"Why would a man like that be selling such dresses," She whispered to Archibald as they cautiously walked toward the stables of the inn they arranged to stay in.

"Well, in the Market Town, currency means little, because the barter system is used. That particular gentleman requires six months of service in his whorehouse for the purchase of one of his gowns," Archibald explained as he stabled his horse. He was very matter-of-fact with her, and she enjoyed it.

"There are whorehouses in the Market Town?" She asked as quietly as she could.

"I'm certain there are whorehouses in every town if you looked hard enough," He admitted.

"Cullen, escort Madeleine upstairs to her room," Septimus ordered and began walking back into the Market Town.

"WAIT! Septimus, what am I do to by myself?" She wondered why he brought her at all if he wasn't even going to speak to her.

"Cullen will be with you. Tomorrow we'll see more of each other, I promise you, Madeleine," With that he went on into the crowd, two of the guard behind him.

"Shall we?" Archibald asked before hoisting all of their baggage onto himself.

* * *

They easily found their way up to the room, and even more easily discovered an uncomfortable silence. Madeleine sat on the bed while Archibald stood at the door, hand on the hilt of his sword.

"May I ask you something, Madeleine?" He inquired.

She nodded.

"You seem much like the sweetest girl I've met, but I don't quite understand your connection to the Prince," He told her curiously.

"Your question?"

"What is your connection with the Prince?"

"Ah! Well, when I was very young, he rescued me, and he gave me the wonderful life that I have now. He's my dearest friend, and he looks after me well. Perhaps he shouldn't though, because he does have his own life to worry about," She warmed at the thought of him.

"I must admit, I thought there to be more to your relationship. You are quite young and I hoped it wasn't so. It appears the Prince is not so wretched as to take a young lover," Archibald stated.

Madeleine grew more uncomfortable than she had during the silence, "Can't we go out into town, Archibald? The night is just beginning to come alive."

He shook his head.

"Please, you'll be with me. I'll be safe," She said this, though she secretly doubted it. "I've come all this way, and now I've got to sit in this room and rot. What about you? You'd be out there if I wasn't here, wouldn't you?" She tried to persuade him.

He tossed his tricorne hat on a table and rumpled his hair, he wore it in deep, shining brunnette locks that stopped at his collar. "What do you want to see?"

"I want to look around at everything. Absolutely everything, I've never been more curious!" She exclaimed honestly.

"If I agreed to this, you wouldn't tell the Prince, would you?" He asked casually.

"Not on pain of death," She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal."

* * *

They immediately went down into the streets. Every shoppe she saw was more interesting than the one before it. She saw a violin playing itself and roses that never wilted. Then she saw a rather odd little shop. It was the most drab she had seen thus far. Archibald had been at her side the entire time, so naturally she thought nothing of it when a cascade of whores entered the streets and accidentally carried him off with them. She assumed he was still there while he was trying to fight his way back to Madeleine without harming the women.

She approached the shop and clearly saw they were selling coats. Very plain, very droll, patchwork coats. She inquired to a happy looking old man what she would have to trade for one of the coats, she thought she wouldn't trade nail clippings for one.

The man kindly answered, "Three years."

"Years?"

"Oh, certainly three years of your life for one of my coats," He assured her seriously.

"They must be very fine coats then?" She wondered about his position on this.

"Finest ever crafted on this earth, miss," He spoke the words as if no one could doubt them, but they carried no arrogance.

"Do they have any function besides being coats?" She tried to understand.

He lifted a coat, "Wear this coat and you'll never be cold, not in the middle of a mountain, not at the bottom of the sea. Wear this coat and you'll never feel the heat, not in the desert, not standing on the sun." The man himself was wearing one, and he held a flame up to his arm. He felt no pain, and the coat did not set ablaze.

"Amazing!" She exclaimed. _How wonderful_, she thought, _Owen would just love a coat like this_. As she thought about this, she'd entirely forgotten Archibald, whom was fighting his way toward her at that moment. "My guardian, you see, is always complaining that the temperature is never right. His pneumonia vexes him so. He'd be ever so content with a coat such a this." Her brows furrowed and then she smiled. "How much again?"

"Two years."

"The first time you said three years," She corrected him.

"And now I'm saying two. It is unusually selfless to give up your life for another. Is this a bargain?" He asked quite finally.

"Bargain," She agreed while squinting in preparation for the pain.

But the old man rapped up the coat in brown paper, handed it to her and thanked her for her business. He hadn't taken anything from her. _Maybe it would work later, or maybe he's decided to give it to me free of charge_, she thought.

Suddenly, Archibald bounded around the corner and she realized they'd been separated.

"Oh, Archibald, I'm sorry I wandered. I think it's best we go back to the inn now anyway. We can play cards or the like until Septimus gets back," She attempted to apologize.

But he wasn't listening to her.

"Archibald?" As she said his name she realized his eyes were even wider than usual.

He slowly approached her and breathed harshly, "Madeleine? What's happened to your face?"


	4. Changes

**Disclaimer:** Stardust is mostly certainly not my property. That would be rather nice though, don't you fancy?

**Summary:** A man is not born into hatred. Hatred develops from pain. Though a man may begin as a prince, a woman can make him a tyrant. The youngest and eldest of the Princes of Stormhold were born competitors, but they died vengeful, blood-soaked rivals. Rivals for the love of a woman.

_**Author's Note:**_ Two more reviews! Brilliant! 1 Favourite, 2 Alerts. Thank you very much. Here's the 4th chapter. The next pieces I'm working on are the 5th chapter of The Metamorphosis of Man, and the 3rd chapter of A Madman's Sacrifice. Once I've posted this, I'll look it over more closely. And you may see an update sometime soon.

Cheers!

_L. Bronte_

* * *

_"Madeleine? What's happened to your face?"_

* * *

**Chapter 4: Changes**

"What do you mean what's happened to my face?" She replied in confusion.

Archibald grabbed hold of her arm and began dragging her back to toward the inn.

"Archibald? Archibald?! What's happened to my face?!" She demanded from him in a panic. His strength surprised her when she made attempts to slow his frantic pace. "Please, tell me!"

"Such a fool I am..." He mumbled quietly and stopped at the inn doors. He took off his cloak and pulled it over her head. "Keep the hood up until we get to the room." Again he held her arm as they passed by two members of Septimus' guard.

They climbed the stairs to Madeleine's room and Archibald shut the door softly behind them.

"Now, please tell me-"

"Quiet yourself," He instructed her in a manner that was both definite and calm. "Hadn't you noticed my absence? The Market Town is not a safe place for a grown man, and most certainly not a little girl. I informed the prince that your presence would only cause hindrances to his journey." He paused and let out a shaky breath. "Tell me, Madeleine, what's in that parcel? And what did you barter with to get it?" After he had asked her, he pushed the hood away from her face and searched her eyes for traces of enchantment.

His proximity caused her stomach to turn nervously and she took a moment before unwrapping the patchwork coat. Archibald motioned kindly for her to allow him to examine it. He caressed the fabric, and then began sniffing it.

"Elementals," He whispered.

"Could I just look in the mirror? I want to know what's happened to me!" She pleaded.

"Quiet yourself," He repeated and waited for her to settle. "This was made by an elemental, likely a fae, versed in all articles. It's well made, not a common garment. Nor is it something cheaply bought. What did they ask from you?" The severe look on his face slightly frightened her.

"The old man who sold it to me said it would cost me three..." She stopped, "... years of my life..." She finished.

"Oh, you daft little thing. Haven't you ever heard that life is a terrible thing to waste?" He shook his head at her and she felt ashamed. "Three years?"

"Actually, I wanted it for Owen. The man said he'd give it to me for two years... because it's a selfless thing to give up your life for a another," She attempted to defend herself.

"_'Selfless'_? _'Selfless'_?" He scoffed. "How _'selfless' _were you being when you forgot I was responsible for you? Did you think aging two years would go unnoticed in a young girl? You're a right selfish little thing, and now I'm at the mercy of the prince's wrath!" He slid down the door and closed his eyes. "Don't listen to me, it's my fault. I shouldn't have allowed you to persuade me go out in the first place. I should have watched you more closely. The blame is all my own."

Madeleine knelt down by his side, "Archibald, I should not have disobeyed the prince. I should not have suggested we go into the town. I should not have bought that coat without knowing exactly the currency I was buying it with. I put the blame on my truly selfish person... But I should really like to see what has happened to my face!"

He looked at her again before rising and going behind the screen separating the rest of the room from the washtub. "Madeleine, sit down on the bed."

She did as he asked and he emerged holding a rectangular mirror facing down.

"Prepare yourself," He warned before holding the mirror up to her face.

Her eyes widened in surprise, for though she was certainly herself, she had aged visibly. The child in her had vanished completely. Babyish reminders of youth were gone. Her cheeks had hollowed and her eyes held an intensity that was nearly fierce. She pulled her hair out of its braid and saw that it had grown a great deal as well. During her inspection she noticed a scar on her cheek that had not been there before.

"I didn't have a scar," She told Archibald while running her finger along the blemish.

"Perhaps you haven't received it yet, it's not bad. It won't be too painful," He explained to her with a helpful grin.

"What do you mean?"

"Enchantments are usually very specifically made by those who create them, I couldn't begin to accurately explain the mechanics of a charm I had not placed upon someone myself," He lowered the mirror. "I could merely speculate."

"Archibald, I look so old. Grown even. Will anyone else recognize me?" She wondered.

"It's not as bad as all that. You've aged, obviously. But, perhaps the prince won't be as observant as I was. He hasn't seen you in five years. Perhaps he hasn't become accustomed to your adolescence, and will therefore allow your womanhood to go unnoticed," Archibald nodded as he spoke. As if trying to convince himself he was speaking the truth.

"You think so?" Madeleine hoped.

"No, I was lying. Something happens to you within the next two years and you become incredibly beautiful. Undeniably more beautiful. It's probably natural, but the process has been sped up," He paced while he spoke and Madeleine blushed as he brazenly spoke of her beauty. He knelt down in front of her and held her hands up to his nose, "Madeleine, do you use Guelder-rose on your hands, by itself or in a cream?"

"Never. Why?-" She tried to ask, but he dropped her hands suddenly and looked away. Faster than she had ever seen a human move, he was at the door.

"Lay down on the bed and pretend you're asleep," Archibald whispered. "The prince has returned, I'll take care of this. I promise you."

Madeleine laid out as she was told and the lamps dimmed. She stopped breathing and listened for Septimus' spurs. She heard them on the stairs and then a mumbling that became louder and closer as he spoke to his guard. The speech stopped and the sound of two men, without spurs, walking away was all she could hear. A practiced knock came upon the door, and she heard it creak open.

"My lord, Miss Lennox has fallen asleep while you were away. I think it best that you see her in the morning," Archibald began politely.

"Cullen, I am pleased you are concerned for her well-being, however I did not ask for your opinion in this instance. I see that she sleeps," He responded in his typically sharp manner.

Madeleine heard him advancing toward the bed. She felt herself panic and tried to appear in a slumber. Septimus' weight came down on the bed and his hand ran through her hair and then down her arm.

"Sweet Madeleine..." She heard him whisper to her nearly soundlessly.

Then something about the way he was holding her fore arm startled her. The prince was roughly running his hand up and down it. Then he felt across her hand and lifted it away from her.

"Cullen?" He called. "Why does she smell like Guelder-rose?"

Archibald hesitated, "It wasn't a gift from you, my lord?"

"No, most certainly not. Stormhold Palace is the only place in the kingdom that is allowed to contain Guelder-rose or its many applications," He reminded Archibald.

Madeleine felt Septimus come closer as he took in the scent of her neck.

"It's all over her, Cullen. Her skin is softer than when I left," Septimus stood. "Cullen, did you disobey my orders? Did you take her into the Market Town?"

Archibald Cullen made no reply.

"I told you it would be your head," Septimus threatened harshly.

"NO!" Madeleine shouted as she caught Septimus around the middle. Keeping her head down she began to explain their plight, "I made him go into the town. I was so selfish. He tried to oppose me, but I wouldn't have it. I wandered away and didn't even think of how worried you both would be. And Septimus... I did something foolish."

"What did you do?" The prince demanded, shaking her off of him. He pulled her up by her arms and noticed she would not look at him.

"Before I show you, you must promise me that you shant harm Archibald. This is my doing, Septimus," She looked up at him and waited for his fury. "Things have gone so poorly, so quickly."

"Madeleine, you've grown older..." Was all he managed for a moment. "How did this happen?"

Madeleine was surprised by his calm state.

"She bartered two years of her life for an elemental's coat," Archibald answered. "I should've been there to stop her. She appears to have taken on some of the features she is meant to have in two years time, my lord."

"I see..." Septimus' collected appearance confused Madeleine. He ran a gloved finger over the scar on her left cheek. "What's done is done."

"That's all?" She wondered. "You're not angry with me?"

"You know what you did was wrong and no harm has befallen you. You have learned your lesson," He grinned at her. "I should like to hear you play your new violin, I think."

Without seeing him move, Archibald was holding her violin out to her.

"Remember," Septimus started as he pulled a stuffed arm chair closer to her, "Something of your own."

She began to play immediately, first just spouting off notes and then cultivating them into pieces she had fiddled with. The passed day upon review left her mind spinning, and she felt dizzy. The seventh prince of Stormhold was looking up at her and a feeling of deeper sickness came upon her.

"Madeleine, is something the matter?" Septimus inquired.

"I can't possibly play any longer. I'm far too tired. Please..." Madeleine sat back down on the bed.

Septimus bolted up and glared at Archibald, "Is this part of the enchantment, Cullen?"

"It's likely she's fatigued from the ride, my lord-" Archibald began to reason, but then abruptly ended his argument. "There's a rider approaching quickly. He did not dismount at the gate." The guardsman closed his eyes. "It's an average-sized man, not likely an assassin. Whomever the rider, his business is urgent."

Madeleine marveled at Archibald for having known such things. His senses were not only keen, but extraordinary. A practiced knock was heard at the door. Archibald cracked it open and spoke softly with the guard on the opposite side.

"A moment, please, my lord," Archibald said before leaving the room.

Septimus stepped closer to Madeleine, "It could be one of my spies, Madeleine. If so, we would all have to leave immediately. A threats, perhaps, has been made." He touched her face once more, "Now you are grown, and the five years I spent away from you seems so much longer. Your face will not hold its shape. How will I ever know if you are truly my Madeleine?"

Madeleine looked away from him for a moment before turning back, "You're the only person whom I could ever speak to about my first night in the Kingdom of Stormhold. Not even Owen knows where I come from. He doesn't know why I'm here. Only you." She laughed shallowly, "That's all the more I'll say, but I've said something about that night, and I hope I've convinced you I'm truly myself."

"Of course you are-"

Archibald burst back into the room.

"What is it man? Has one of my brothers been alerted to my proximity?!" Septimus interrogated immediately.

"No, my lord. It's Harris Saxon arrived from the palace," A visibly saddened Archibald informed a confused prince.

"My Harry?... from the stables?" Madeleine asked him, every bit as confused as Septimus.

"Yes, he says there's an emergency, but he needs to speak with you, Madeleine," Archibald looked to the prince for permission.

The prince gave the order, "Let him inside, Cullen."

Archibald left the room again, and returned shortly with Harris in his wake.

"Madeleine!" The man called before rushing to her side, without acknowledging the prince. "I realize you've only just left, and I never would've come unless it was of the utmost importance..." He trailed off. "My God, your face has changed."

"Harry, what is it that's so important?" She sighed.

"It's Owen, he's taken to his bed. He was walking back down to your cottage with Prince Primus, and he... He collapsed in a fit of coughs. I saw him. I ran out to help him, but he was unconscious," Harris paused and helped a distraught Madeleine sit down in the chair Septimus had previously occupied. "It's his pneumonia, Madeleine. It's bad. That's why I've come. You've only been gone a few hours and he can't live without you. He begged me not to come, but I knew it'd be best for the both of you. For him, if you can make him better. And for you, so you could be with him... When..." He drifted off, but his meaning was well understood.

Septimus did not know Sir Owen particularly well, but knew that he had acted as Madeleine's father since her arrival in Stormhold. From what Saxon had told her, he gathered that Owen was dying. He also realized Saxon meant for her to return to the palace with him. Septimus looked over Harris Saxon closely and felt that he did not look like protection enough for Madeleine... Not in the dead of night. He was tall and lean, like most stable boys, and his face was long like one of the animals he cared for. But with dark, delicate features, Septimus noticed that he was not an ugly man.

Madeleine looked up at him with reddened eyes, "Septimus, please-"

"Cullen will take you back," The prince assured her. "You'll leave immediately," He told them. "Cullen, escort Miss Lennox and Mr. Saxon back safely to her cottage. Be swift for Sir Owen's sake." He turned to Saxon, "Could you wait outside a moment?"

"Of course, my lord," Saxon bowed and left.

"Madeleine, I would like to accompany you, but it is impossible. It will be at least another day before my men and I can return to the palace. Please, no matter what happens, I will take care of you," Septimus kissed her cheek lightly. "Let us pray that we are not torn apart the next time we meet. Now go, I need to speak with Cullen. I'll see you."

"Thank you, Septimus. Good bye," She responded swiftly before following Saxon.

"Archie, I need you to have both of your eyes on them. Did you hear what she said before he came in? 'My Harry'? What's that supposed to mean?" Septimus growled.

"You selfish bastard. Did anything about Owen falling ill reach your ears? My God, Septimus, you don't own the girl," Archibald scolded his friend. He had noticed from the moment Septimus saw her changed face that the man thought of her as more than a companion.

"I know that, I just... She's very well-featured now. And I'm truly apologetic about Owen, he was a good man, whom raised Madeleine very nicely. He did have her betrothed to Saxon though, Archie. That is a mark against the man," Septimus could not dodge Archibald's blow to his arm. "Listen, you're going with them because I don't want anyone ambushing them in the forest."

"No, I believe you. I also believe that you're disgusting. She's just a girl, man. Pretty though she may be, she's for another man," Archibald shook his head. "The other day you were telling me that she was like your daughter, you incestuous letch."

Septimus suddenly thought of the night they had met. He envisioned tiny Madeleine with her little gown shredded from the skirt to the neck and he almost wretched. "Archie, just protect her. She is my life."

"Of course, of course," Archibald went to the door. "Are you going to be all right, you look a bit ill now."

"I've just had a disturbing memory. Huh, all of my memories are a bit like that. Farewell," Septimus said softly and sat down in the chair.

"Farewell, my friend," Archibald muttered before going down to the inn's stable.


	5. Father

Disclaimer: Stardust is mostly certainly not my property. That would be rather nice though, don't you fancy?

Summary: A man is not born into hatred. Hatred develops from pain. Though a man may begin as a prince, a woman can make him a tyrant. The youngest and eldest of the Princes of Stormhold were born competitors, but they died vengeful, blood-soaked rivals. Rivals for the love of a woman.

_Author's Note:_ So, originally, chapters 5 and 6 were just chapter 5, but I realized what shite pacing that would be, so I split them. In any case, 2 CHAPTERS AT ONCE! -That's mind-blowing. I hope more readers stumble in.

_L. Bronte_

Chapter 5: Father

-------------

Two horses swiftly carried three riders out of the Market Town. Archibald Cullen tightly held Madeleine about the waist as he guided his horse into the forest. Harris Saxon followed directly behind them.

"How can you see where you're going?" Madeleine questioned Archibald, feeling and seeing only blackness around her.

"I have remarkably keen eyesight, miss," He replied bluntly, staring dead ahead, into the dark.

Madeleine did not speak again until the horse trotted to a stop. Archibald turned about and cursed.

"What is it? Are we lost?" She asked him frantically.

"You and I are on the path, but Saxon appears to have lost his way... Or he has been detained," Archibald looked at her closely through the darkness. He knew that she could not see his eyes and he felt himself assessing whether or not he should go back for the boy. The prince would no doubt feel a small sense of relief if Harris Saxon was never seen again. The look of fear and sadness on Madeleine's face caused him to question whether or not he could carry out the wishes of a selfish prince.

"Archibald?"

"We're going back for him," He told her firmly. And they rode off back down the path toward the Market Town.

-----------------------------------------

As they rode, a cry rang out from somewhere to their left. Archibald slowed to a stop.

"I cannot risk leaving you on your own. You must accompany me. You must be silent, Madeleine," Archibald whispered to her before helping her down from the horse. He took her hand and led the way into the forest. As they wandered farther from the path, Madeleine spied a light growing brighter.

Then she heard Saxon, "STOP! I swear-" And then a crack resounded through the trees.

Madeleine and Archibald reached a clearing and hid themselves about the trees outside it.

"Why did you scamper off so quickly after speaking to Primus?! Did you head out to tell another one of the princes what he'd told you?!" A rough voice was demanding to know. "You're a spy if I ever saw one! Pretending to be an innocent ostler, you should be ashamed of yourself!"

Another cracking echoed.

"So tell me, boy... Which prince did you go to, where is he staying, and what information did you have for him?" The man asked, but his voice was not followed by any cracking sounds.

"I went to no prince, I searched for my love. Her father is sick!" Saxon pleaded with the man.

"Why, you lying sack if shi-" The man grew angry.

Archibald stepped into the clearing and found several men flanking the man doing the questioning.

"Gareth Hoort, why are you brutalizing this man?" Archibald interrogated him. "Surely, Secundus should have his minions doing something more honourable than beating a defenseless stable boy?" He paused. "Madeleine, come here and tend to Saxon!" He called to her and the two men holding Saxon dropped him.

Madeleine slowly stepped out from the trees and saw that it was Prince Secundus' guard that had attacked her fiancé. She knew that Archibald could not defeat all five of them. Saxon's face was bleeding in several places and she cradled him. They made their way toward Archibald.

"Cullen, I suppose we now know which prince the boy is working for," Hoort chuckled.

"And I suppose you now know that you should get the hell out of here, before you invoke my anger," Archibald told him dangerously.

"Oh, the Mouse Guard of the Seventh Son is going to fight us all himself? How funny you are Cullen!" Hoort taunted him.

"I shall assist you, Mr. Cullen. Two against five is much better than one against five," Saxon whispered.

"I fear," Archibald began, "That you have never before seen me in a battle, Mr. Hoort?"

"Aye, that I've not, Cullen," As Hoort said this, he began to circle the small company. Madeleine felt that the large man could singularly defeat both of her companions.

"Then you should not consider my threats to be comical, merely for the reason of my stature. When I instructed you to leave, I was not threatening you... I was warning you," When Archibald admitted this, Madeleine saw something change in him. Like a darkness had settled into him.

Again, Hoort chortled, along with the rest of the guard, "Precious. Ah, I almost feel I should thank you Cullen, because when we've finished with you and Septimus' stable boy... every one of us will have that pretty little tart nailed to each tree in the clear-"

Before he could finish the last word, Archibald had moved 12 feet in a fraction of a second. His sword was buried to the hilt in Hoort's throat. His force had lifted Hoort off of the ground and he held him there, suspended by his blade and immense strength. He turned toward the other men, and displayed the corpse proudly.

"Another word! Another step! Another breath!... And I'll massacre the lot of you so brutally, that everyone who passes here shall know the exact manner of your deaths! No one shall mistake the carnage of Archibald Cullen! NO ONE!"

The four other members of the guard stood like statues.

"Now, get out of here. Tell Secundus that I will not stand for his men torturing innocent boys. And take this to him!" Archibald threw the corpse to the ground and walked toward Madeleine and Saxon. Secundus' guard scampered away with the body.

Saxon mechanically pushed Madeleine behind him as Archibald approached.

"Back to the path, then?" Archibald asked kindly, tossing up his chin.

Saxon held Madeleine's hand tightly and grabbed his horse. As they made their way back, he could not help but be wary of Archibald.

"I thank you for coming to my rescue, Mr. Cullen. However, I was hoping to ask that, as we are riding together toward the palace... if Madeleine might not ride with me?" Saxon wondered casually.

"I wish that could be possible, but Prince Septimus expressly asked that she ride with me. Besides, it's not quite proper to ride the same horse with your fiancé, is it?" Archibald explained, trying to set the boy at ease.

"No, I suppose not," Saxon mumbled.

"Ah, the path," Archibald announced as he found his horse awaiting them on the road. "Miss Lennox," He offered and hoisted her onto the horse in the darkness. "If you are ready, Mr. Saxon, let us ride."

------------

Once more, they were off to the palace. As Archibald held Madeleine, he noticed that she was trembling violently.

"Are you cold, miss?" He asked her, doubting it.

She did not answer him, and he fully understood.

"Do not be afraid of me. I only defended your honour, Madeleine," He explained in a hushed voice. "Have you not seen the prince take a life?" He attempted to rationalize.

"No, it was dark and I was so young," She admonished softly.

"He was not a good man, he would have done the same to Mr. Saxon and I... And worse to you," Archibald swallowed.

"It was not what you did, but the manner in which you did it. How... How can you be so fast? So strong?" She queried.

"Perhaps, like your patchwork coat, there is more to me than what meets the eye," He revealed mysteriously, but then said nothing more.

"I am not afraid of you, Archibald," She leaned back into him, "I promise you."

"And I promise you that we will be at your cottage in no time at all," He brought his heels into his horse and they sped off at a gallop.

------

Within three hours, they had made it to the other side of the forest. Having taken the path, it was a fraction of the time they had wasted the previous day, going into the trees themselves.

When Madeleine saw the cottage, her heart started beating wildly as she felt it sink lower in her chest. _What if I'm too late_, she wondered.

"I'm sure we'll make it," Archibald assured her, as if answering her unasked question.

Her home came closer and closer, when they finally reached the gate there was no one there to open it. Madeleine leapt from Archibald's horse, scrambled over the gate, and bolted for the cottage. She threw open the door, ran inside, up the stairway, and into Owen's room.

She went to his bed side and knelt down. He was unconscious. She took his hand and kissed it.

Footsteps could be heard on the stairway. Madeleine saw Archibald bow in the doorway.

"Prince Primus," He acknowledged.

Madeleine looked to the other side of the bed, where she had not seen the First Son of Stormhold seated.

"My lord, forgive me, I-"

"Tend only to your father, I am here as his friend. There are no princes here," Primus instructed her with the utmost humility.

"Has he been awake?" She asked.

"He's in and out, his breathing is laboured," Primus informed her.

Archibald knelt beside her, "I brought the coat along. I can't say what good it will do. But it will please him to know you were thinking of him."

Madeleine's hand entwined with his, "Where is Harry?"

"I've sent him to take care of himself, he will be along," He promised her.

Madeleine placed the coat over Owen, and prayed along with the guard and the prince.

An hour later Owen stirred.

"Oh, papa!" Madeleine exclaimed and kissed his cheek.

"Madeleine? You came back?" He coughed. "Where is Septimus?"

She glanced up at Primus, "He could not come with me. Your good friend Primus is here."

He focused on the prince, and asked, "Have you called for the Bishop?"

"Oh, papa, no, that's not necessary," Fear and pain shot through her.

Owen looked at her, "You are ever so good, Madeleine." He squinted. "You've changed. Your face has grown older. You've only just gone away."

"And I'm already back, that's what's important. Look what I've brought you. It's an enchanted coat, the weather shall always suit you now," She told him while trying to keep the tears out of her eyes.

"I thought it too hot a day for such a wonderful coolness," Owen started to cough and wheeze uncontrollably.

"Archibald, call for the Bishop. Go, now!" Primus ordered and he was out like lightning.

"I love you so," Owen whispered as he began to lose consciousness.

"I love you, papa. With everything in me, I love you," She kissed him again.

He held Primus' hand with all of his waning might, "See that she is safe. See that she is provided for. See to it that she is loved, Primus."

He turned to Madeleine and smiled before losing consciousness.

It was only five minutes after he'd fallen asleep that Archibald, Saxon and the Bishop arrived.

"He's just nodded off, he can't-" She began.

"The Bishop was here earlier, Madeleine, he has but to say a last prayer," Saxon told her sadly.

"No..." Madeleine cried. Saxon pulled her back so that the Bishop could be at Owen's side. Madeleine, Archibald, Primus and Saxon watched as the Bishop completed the Last Rites. When he was finished, he bowed gravely to those who looked on, and left the small cottage.

"There was no finer knight in all of Stormhold," Primus awarded Owen.

"No finer man," Archibald corrected. Madeleine went to his side once more.

They remained in silence as Sir Owen Markham drew his last breaths. When he had passed, Madeleine lost all composure and clutched at the corpse in despair.

"Why did I leave you? How could I have left you?" She cried horribly.

Primus drew Archibald aside, "I think it best if you bring her up some wine... With, perhaps, something in it to calm her."

"Oh, course, My Lord," Archibald bowed and went downstairs.

Saxon knelt beside Madeleine and stroked her shoulders, crying lightly himself.

Primus felt his presence had become awkward, "I shall..." The youths at Owen's bedside looked up at him with tearstained faces, "... My sincerest condolences." He bowed and exited the cottage.

Archibald entered the room a few moments later carrying a goblet filled with wine, crushed valerian and a few spoonfuls of laudanum. He brought it to Madeleine.

"Drink this," He commanded benignly.

"No, thank you. I don't want it," She turned away from him.

"It'll do you good, Madeleine," He pressed on.

She assessed him suspiciously, "What's in it?"

"Do you require me to force it on you?" He wondered, humiliated.

"No," She sobbed, took the goblet and drank it down. Within minutes she felt her body and mind grow tired.

Archibald lifted her away from Saxon and bid him farewell. He stopped for a moment at the door to look upon Owen, and said a quiet prayer. Then he brought Madeleine up to her bed.

"I don't want to sleep, Archibald..." She tried to tell him.

"Only for a few hours, and then I'll bring you up into the palace. I'll have already helped carry Owen to the chapel myself. I'm sure Saxon will come along. Sleep now," He told her.

Madeleine drifted off into a slumber that was more peaceful than she could ever remember having had before.

----------------------------------

Sometime later she heard a soft humming and she opened her eyes. Archibald was sitting exactly where he had been when she first fell asleep. He was not humming, but singing a song that seemed to have no words. It sounded Celtic to her ears.

"Shall we go to the palace now?" She asked him.

He nodded, but continued to sing. It was not earthly, like much of the attributes of Archibald. He smiled at her and his face pulled back into a visage that was not quite human.

"Archibald... what are you?" She queried.

His smile faded. The song continued, but he looked seriously at her and she heard him in her mind, _'Not now, but soon.'_ He stood and held his arm out to her. They left the cottage and walked across the grounds until they reached the gate that led into Stormhold Palace. The guards allowed them to pass without hesitation. Madeleine had never before entered the palace.

It was adorned brightly and regally, but she had not noticed. It was gray and meaningless in her eyes. Archibald was still singing, and suddenly she realized it was a lament. _And such a beautiful requiem it is_, she thought.

Archibald brushed his hand against hers. They traveled through the many halls and every mirror they passed had been covered. When they took a turn down a hallway lit only by two small candles, Madeleine knew they had found the chapel. The closer they came, more tears built behind her eyes.

Archibald pushed open the doors and she saw Owen's body laid out on an altar, covered by a sheet. Archibald remained by the doors as Madeleine made her way up to the front. She knelt, examining the remains of her father, then prayed for him. All the while, Archibald lamented.

Eventually, Madeleine heard more footsteps approaching.

Then she heard a voice say, from somewhere behind her, "So it is true, Sir Owen Markham has left this world?" The old, gruff voice was filled with disbelief.

Madeleine looked around and saw not only Prince Primus, but the King of Stormhold himself. She pressed herself against the floor.

"Your grace honours us with his presence!" She declared. Something made a shadow above her and she felt a hand beneath her chin.

"Oh, sad child, stand," The King ordered. And she rose up to stand in front of him. He did not take his hand away from her, but turned her face so that he might not miss a pore of it. "Primus, Owen's daughter is twice as pretty as you have led me to believe!" He laughed, and released her face. The King went to Owen and spoke to anyone that might have heard, "He was a dear friend, in a world devoid of kindness."

Madeleine felt blessed that the King would bestow such grand words upon her guardian. But then Madeleine heard the King whisper something that she did not find honourable at all.

It was liken to, "You were a true knight. Nothing like Septimus' half-breed songbird. Disgraceful, utterly disgraceful."

Archibald's song faltered at this, his hearing being as keen as his eyesight. Madeleine looked at him and saw his eyes were downcast.

"Dear Miss Lennox, my father has had a feast prepared in Sir Owen's honour. Without your attendance, he has asked that it be canceled. Shall you attend this night?" Primus asked of her. The King returned to Primus' side.

"Of course I shall attend. A thousand thanks to you, My Lord, for remembering him," Madeleine groveled.

"Lady Dia has been called to fetch you. She may instruct you further, and make certain that you are properly attired. Is there anything that you require?" Primus offered.

She thought briefly before she spoke, "May Mr. Cullen accompany me?"

Archibald stopped singing and closed his eyes.

"HALF-BREEDS ARE NOT PERMITTED AT STORMHOLD'S ROYAL TABLE!" The King raged toward Archibald. "It is an atrocity that they are allowed inside the palace! Let alone the chapel!" He advanced on Archibald, whom stood in utter disgrace. "Your kind are filth, boy!" The King seethed at him, and then spat at his feet before leaving.

"I didn't know," She muttered before running to Archibald. "I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"Of course you didn't. My kind are thick-skinned. You needn't worry," He did not look at her.

"My apologies, Mr. Cullen, the King is set in old ways. Some of them foolish," Amended the First Son of Stormhold.

"All is well, My Lord, I assure you," Archibald managed to say.

"I shall take my leave then, Mr. Cullen, Miss Lennox," And the prince was gone.

Archibald grabbed her arm, "Do me no services, Madeleine. I may be allowed, but I am not welcome within these walls."

A light cough emitted from the doorway.

"Lady Dia," Archibald bowed, so Madeleine curtsied.

Lady Dia was dressed in a light lavender gown that caused her ginger tresses to shine out all the brighter. Her eyes were a vibrant and kind blue. She visibly had had the same mother as Primus. Madeleine had seen her but once before, when they were young girls. Dia had been walking the grounds and Madeleine asked her to play in the loft above the stables. When they were found, Owen threatened to punish her, but Septimus put that right out of his mind. _We were only ten then, she'll never remember me,_ she thought.

"Mr. Cullen, Miss Lennox. If you're finished here, would you please follow me?" Lady Dia requested. They peered back and gave silent good-byes, then followed the Lady out.

-----------------------------------

Only the sounds made by their feet could be heard as they treaded through the palace, higher and higher up the staircases. Only when Lady Dia had reached an enormous set of ornately carved, silver inlayed doors, did she stop. After taking out her key, she looked to Archibald to open them. He obliged. Once they were inside, Dia heaved a sigh and laughed.

"I hate walking the halls, I've always got to act as if there is something shoved up my bottom," She admitted in a mock whisper. "Oh, poor dear," She hugged Madeleine to her bosom, despite Madeleine's anxiety. "I'd have hugged you in the chapel, but I fear one of my father's minions would be ranting it about."

Several girls were lazing about in Dia's large sitting room. They all sat up straight when Archibald had entered.

"Ladies," He bowed his head to them.

"Pay them no mind, Archie. Silly girls, the lot of them. They're supposed to be my ladies, but I'm more their servant than they are mine. Spoiled them, Quintus used to say," Lady Dia was talking and walking toward her personal rooms, Madeleine and Archibald followed. Lady Dia looked at the girls in the sitting room one last time before slamming her door.

She glanced at Madeleine, "Whores, Miss Lennox... Less than whores, because they don't receive compensation."

Madeleine's eyes widened.

"Come now, Di," Archibald chastised.

"Secundus is running through them night by night. It's disgusting," She continued to gossip at Madeleine.

"We ran into Secundus' guard earlier tonight, I was forced to-"

"Slaughter Gareth Hoort?" Lady Dia finished for him. "I know, Secundus wasn't pleased at all that you threatened him. Nor was our father, as you well know. Though he wasn't pleased, you should've seen the fear in his eyes." She giggled.

Archibald coughed, "What do you need Madeleine for?"

"Well, we need to get you out of that tatty old thing and ready for dinner, Madeleine," Lady Dia smiled at her excitedly.

"Thank you, Lady Dia."

"'_Di_'," She corrected, "I've had my fortune told just this morning, and it has been divined that we shall be the best of friends. He said, _'A straw-haired girl, full of sorrow shall come to you, and a bond of sisterhood shall soon be made!'_ So, I know, Madeleine, that I shall love you." The lady seemed to be very happy with this news.

Madeleine considered this statement for a moment, and after glancing worriedly at Archibald, she replied, "That is wonderful, indeed... Di."

"Where on earth did you get the frock you're in?" Di rose and began searching through her wardrobe. "You look like you work in the stables!" She joked.

"I do work in the stables..." Madeleine said ashamedly.

Di turned, "Oh, I know that, Madeleine. It was only meant to be in jest." Di held a gown under each arm and sat by Madeleine. "In time, you shall understand my silly jokes. You should not be ashamed of working in the stables. You work everyday, look at me, I'm useless and I'll never do anything worth while. I swear that I shall never intend to hurt you with my words."

Madeleine sensed the pure sincerity in Di's words and smiled.

"Now... Light blue... or dark crimson?" Di asked dramatically, thrusting the gowns forward.

Madeleine gasped at their beauteous finery.

"Wouldn't black be most appropriate?" Madeleine questioned.

"Not at Stormhold's Royal Table, it won't. We shall celebrate Sir Owen's life tonight, and afterwards- mourn his death," Di illustrated, dancing about with the gowns. "Come on, pick one!" She urged.

"The blue," Madeleine consented.

"Then you'll wear the crimson," Di corrected her.

"But I said blue..." Madeleine argued.

"Yes, but what you really wanted... was the crimson. You just wouldn't admit it, because you think it would be too showy," Di pointed out. "Am I right, Archibald?"

He smiled at Madeleine, "She thought, _'How beauteous and fine, what would such fire feel like against my skin?'_ I believe she prefers the red."

Madeleine was correct in her assumption that Archibald could read minds. She tried hard not to think certain thoughts then, but they forced themselves to surface.

Archibald started to laugh as many thoughts about him ran through her mind and every so often he heard, _'Oh, I'm so sorry if you can hear this.'_

"Oh, stop it, Archie!" Di scolded playfully. "All right..." Di held each gown up to Madeleine. "I think the blue would be best with your hair. Unless it was brown, the crimson won't look right..." She looked surprised at Madeleine, "You were right about the blue, it is for the best."

Madeleine thought, _'It's just a dress.'_

Archibald suppressed a chuckle.

"Archie, out," Di demanded, and he waited outside. "Now, we're about the same size, so my under things should fit you splendidly." Di began undoing the buttons on the front of Madeleine dress.

"I can do that myself, Di," Madeleine breathed in embarrassment.

"You won't be able to put my things on without help, so be glad of it," Di kissed her forehead and gathered a set of underclothes.

When she was standing in only a shift, Di came up behind her and pulled it off in one quick motion. She gasped audibly and tried to cover herself.

"I've seen a naked girl before, Madeleine," And with that she dropped a silk shift over her new friend's head. Di assisted in figuring out how to assemble the rest of her clothes before slipping the corset over her head. "Have you ever worn one of these before?"

Madeleine hesitated.

"No. Well, I'll not pull it too tight, but I will have to be able to button the gown," Di told her to hold onto a side table.

She pulled and Madeleine gasped. It wasn't very bad, but then it got worse.

"It's in honour of my father, right?" Madeleine asked grimly.

"Of course."

"Then continue," Madeleine watched in a mirror as her waist grew smaller and smaller. She thought the corset might touch her spine from the front.

"Finished," Di finally huffed and slipped a corset cover over her head. "Now the gown!"

She pulled it over Madeleine's head and shimmied it down until the skirt rested on her hips. She quickly buttoned the back and declared Madeleine finished.

"Has the feast begun? Can we go now?" Madeleine queried in hope. The corset proved intolerably uncomfortable and she'd only been wearing it for a few minutes.

"Go?! We haven't even done your hair or made up your face!" Di exclaimed in exacerbation. "Archie! You can come in now!"

He reentered. Madeleine's thoughts went wild when she saw him.

He laughed. "Yes, your father would be pleased. Yes, I think you look pretty. No, you're not being vain," He answered her.

"Mostly up or down?" Di questioned herself as she situated Madeleine in front of a large vanity. "Up!"

Archibald watched as Di lovingly tortured Madeleine's scalp.

"This is Stormhold for you," She heard him say.

'I just want to mourn him, but what she said about celebrating life made sense to me,' Madeleine thought toward him.

"It is not an entirely bad place. Di isn't the only kind soul," He told her. She realized Di had been carrying on a conversation while Archibald had spoken.

'You're speaking to me inside my head, aren't you?' She asked him mentally.

She heard his laugh, 'It's much more peaceful than chatting to Di. It will calm you too. Calm your mind.'

'Thank you, Archibald. You have proven yourself a great friend and in such a short time,' She thought.

"You're welcome," He replied aloud.

"Welcome to what, you pervert?" Di giggled. "There now, finished the hair!" She pulled a pouf from a box and stamped it across both of Madeleine's cheeks. She brushed her cheeks lightly so that they wouldn't be too garishly white. Then she barely applied rouge and ran coal above each of Madeleine's eyes.

Madeleine panicked and thought, 'I look like a whore, don't I?'

'Not at all. You look like a proper lady,' Archibald assured her.

"We are ready. Oh, you are comely! _'A bond of sisterhood!'_ I can feel it already," Di told her animatedly. "Archibald, it's best you wait here, or amuse yourself with the harlots in the sitting room until we return. Come, Madeleine."

Archibald waited until they had left and barricaded himself inside the room.


	6. Farewell

Disclaimer: Stardust is mostly certainly not my property. That would be rather nice though, don't you fancy?

Summary: A man is not born into hatred. Hatred develops from pain. Though a man may begin as a prince, a woman can make him a tyrant. The youngest and eldest of the Princes of Stormhold were born competitors, but they died vengeful, blood-soaked rivals. Rivals for the love of a woman.

_Author's Note:_ So, originally, chapters 5 and 6 were just chapter 5, but I realized what shite pacing that would be, so I split them. In any case, 2 CHAPTERS AT ONCE! -That's mind-blowing. I hope more readers stumble in. More Septimus in next chapter. I wanted to flesh out Madeleine and Archibald in chapters 5 and 6.

_L. Bronte  
_

_----------------------------------------_

CHAPTER 6: Farewell

------------

"Proper etiquette most likely shant be observed, but it'll be pleasantries at the start. You'll sit between myself and Primus. If my father speaks to you... just try to respond with whatever will please him," Di instructed.

At the dining hall's entrance, two guards stood with one man to announce the guests. Di whispered to the announcer.

"I present to the King of Stormhold: Lady Dia of Halbrook and Miss Lennox of Markham!" He bowed as the ladies passed him.

"_'Of Halbrook_?'" Madeleine asked.

"I'm a bastard, Madeleine. That's why I'm _Lady_ Dia and not a princess," Di explained while she waved and smiled at several of the guests. "If father hadn't handed me a title, mark my words, I would've married Archibald Cullen the day he noticed I loved him."

"Why can't you marry him?" Madeleine was confused.

"Other than the fact that he's a commoner... He's a half-breed, and that's not allowed of the nobility," Di waved again. "Besides, we're only friends. I've been betrothed to a kind nobleman for a year now. I've grown to care for him."

"Oh-"

"Here we are," Di found their seats and pulled Madeleine's chair out for her.

They sat and Madeleine grasped the enormity of the gathering. The table itself was seven feet wide and she supposed 40 feet long. Hundreds of people were in attendance, none of whom she recognized. She could hear several stories being told about Sir Owen's bravery, many of them occurred in his much younger years.

She heard an older woman behind her remark, "My, such a pretty daughter he has. A proper lady, like a painting. I never knew the mother."

For a time she listened to snippets of stories, until she heard a chair pulled from beside her.

Prince Primus sat down beside her in all of his royal, purple finery. She noticed that his red hair was only just beginning to gray.

"My word, is that you Miss Lennox?" He whispered through a grin.

"It is, My Lord," Madeleine nodded.

"God in heaven, I thought you were a handsome prospect before. Dia! You have made perfection!" Primus admired her talents.

"Careful brother, I'll sick her stable boy on you!" Di warned in jest.

"How did you know about Saxon?" Madeleine shot at Di.

"Oh, Archibald mentioned him earlier," Di sipped from a reservoir glass.

"When-"

Primus accidentally interrupted her, "I wish again to extend my deepest condolences on the loss of your father. He was a great friend."

"Oh, thank y-"

"Quiet yourselves now!" The King called from the head of the table and everyone looked toward him. "Before the feast begins, I should like to say a few words about the grand and brave man we have lost-"

Madeleine felt a heat grow in her as the King continued. She did not care to hear his words. She despised him. His treatment of Archibald had set that in her. She held her eyes in his direction as he spoke, but heard nothing of what he was spewing from his mouth.

Suddenly, Di was prodding her, "Didn't you hear him?! Stand up!"

She stood and started listening. "Come, child," The King called her toward him. She attempted to walk to him like she had something stuck up her bottom like Di had mentioned earlier.

He beckoned her with a continuous wave of his arm. When she reached him, he held out the hilt of a sword on a velvet pillow.

"For the daughter of Sir Owen Markham- the hilt of Sulrod! Which was wielded by Sir Owen in the battle to defeat the great armies of Noaughsam! He removed Noaughsam's head with only the shard that remains intact!" The King bellowed across the table.

Madeleine had never heard Owen speak of such things, and knowing that last bit about the shard made her queasy.

"Have you anything to say, Daughter of Owen?" The King prodded impatiently.

_'Respond with whatever will please him,'_ She remembered Di telling her.

"I am eternally in your debt, Your Grace. I am your servant and accept this gift with the greatest and deepest of honours. Our house is blessed," She smiled and curtsied into a bow.

The guests sighed.

The King of Stormhold handed the hilt to his attendant and then held his arms open to Madeleine. She blinked and tried not to look a fool. _He wishes to embrace me?_ She stepped into his arms and the King held her firmly against his chest.

The guests applauded their benevolent king.

"My sincerest sorrow," The King told her through the applause. "Such beauty to be wasted on a stable boy." She heard him whisper.

She tried to wrench away from him, but thought better of it.

He let her go as the clapping waned, "Sit, sit child. Remember him well!"

She accepted the hilt and trotted briskly back to her seat.

"And now! Let the feast begin!-"

As the King finished his declaration, the dining hall doors burst open with a crash.

The announcer scurried forward and shouted, "I present to the King of Stormhold: Prince Septimus! Seventh Son of Stormhold!"

Septimus did not acknowledge a single soul in the room, but he tore right across the dining hall toward Secundus.

His fury was none too contained, "Attacking boys in the forest?! What shame! Count your blessings! If Archibald had not arrived I fear the vows I may have broken against you!"

Secundus sat in silence.

"SIT DOWN BOY!" The King wailed at his son.

Septimus peered across the room and noticed his mistake. He raised his hands is defeat and made several bows to the guests. After that, he stalked around the table toward Di.

"Yes, Septimus?" She asked sweetly before he could begin. Madeleine smiled at him.

"Archibald has informed me you were with Madeleine. Where is she now?" He begged her.

"Look to your right, brother," Di told him.

He glanced in Madeleine's direction, saw her, and turned away.

"I don't have time for this, I have to be with her," He implored.

"Oh, Madeleine, isn't this delightful?" Di asked her.

"It truly is," She admitted.

Septimus pivoted slowly to look upon her again. She grinned at him.

"Oh, Madeleine," He dropped to one knee, "What has she done to you?"

"You don't like it?" She grimaced.

"You've changed is all... Again. There's no getting used to it," He embraced her. "You're ripped apart inside and my father is throwing a party. Bastard..." Septimus said harshly.

"Septimus, he intended it to be from the heart," Primus scolded him.

"From the heart?" Septimus cursed, "What heart? You know as well as I, that a man like Owen would've wished to be burned on a pyre with naught but his closest friends to witness it."

"Our father is a man of extravagance," Primus conceded. "I would be wary of Secundus tonight, Septimus. While you have sworn no ill will toward him, he appears rather like he means to do you no small amount of harm," Eldest brother warned youngest.

Septimus gazed across the table to Secundus and saw that his eyes were blazing in his direction.

"Thank you, brother, you do me well," Septimus clapped a hand on Primus' shoulder. "Bring me a chair," He ordered at an attendant.

The attendant situated the chair between Di and Madeleine. Septimus was seated and he wrapped his hand around Madeleine's.

"Tonight, you shall stay with Di. I wouldn't dream of leaving you alone in that cottage. Not my Madeleine," Septimus soothed her.

"Really, Septimus, that's not entirely proper," Primus chequed his brother quietly.

Madeleine expected Septimus to retort, but he merely released her hand. She wished Archibald had been there to tell her his thoughts.

"Quite right," Septimus muttered. "I cannot stay long, I've promised to brief Cullen more thoroughly. When we've finished, Archibald shall escort you to Di's room. There now, I'll be off." He rose from the table and lowered himself to whisper in Madeleine's ear, "Eat now, my beauty."

Then he was off.

The guests were ravenous in their consumption. Madeleine ate very little, as she felt the more solid of foods travel uncomfortably all the way down into her stomach. _Blasted corset,_ she thought.

"Miss Lennox," She heard Primus begin, "As now is as open of a time as any other, I would like to inform you that I have every intention of taking care of any provisions you may require... Now that your father has passed. I shall not take his dying words lightly," After this admission Primus deeply and sincerely peered into Madeleine's eyes.

It was at this moment that she realized for the first time that Prince Primus was a good man.

As she prepared herself to thank him, he spoke again, "I ask that you suspend any pride that you may have. There is nothing, neither large nor small, that I would not grant you."

"I do not know words with which to thank you... And I pray that that lack of knowledge conveys my gratitude," She attempted to thank him. The two shared a peaceful and friendly silence while gazing at one another.

"Miss Lennox?" An attendant interrupted.

"Yes?" She inquired.

"Mr. Cullen has arrived at the door to escort yourself and Lady Dia to her rooms," The attendant bowed and scurried away.

"Shall we?" Di rose from her seat and offered Madeleine an arm.

"My thanks again, My Lord," Madeleine reaffirmed quickly to Primus.

"Good evening," The prince murmured almost soundlessly.

Di and Madeleine quit the hall and found Archibald waiting patiently for them near the entrance.

"I pray that your father was remembered well, Madeleine?" He asked her directly.

She considered this for a moment, "By most, I believe he was."

-----------------------------------------------

By the time they had arrived at the rooms, Di and Madeleine were fully prepared to retire. The Lady Dia showed her new friend to the room nearest her own and bade her good night. Archibald remained with her.

"I shall stand post at the door tonight. Tomorrow you may gather your things from the cottage and bring them back here. Prince Septimus has ordered it so," Her guardian informed her with finality.

"Why am I to stay within the palace? I have work to do. Work which has been neglected today. My father would want _that_ to be so," She knew she argued wrongly against the messenger.

"It is not my place to question Septimus' orders or intentions, Madeleine. Perhaps he thinks it best you take time to yourself. Your heart is strained so... He does not understand that being in the cottage would bring you peaceful memories. For he cannot sift through your mind as I can," Archibald spoke to calm her, but immediately sensed his mistake.

"My thoughts of my father are my own! How dare you go through them?! Why don't you stop?..." She had railed against him; advanced upon him, but then realized the futility.

"Because I cannot. Your mind is full of pages... Like a book, and it is always opened to me. With all my strength, I cannot will myself to shut it. You are not the only one. Every mind capable of thought is displayed inside my head. I hear them all," He paused, but she knew there was more. "In a room full of people, they are only a buzzing altogether, but when I'm alone with anyone... they cannot hide from me. They're terrible- the things I perceive." He stared at her much saddened face. "Like now, I perceive your pity- and now your thoughts: _'Yes, I do feel pity, but I shouldn't like him to know as such.'_"

"How do you bear it?" She choked, abashed at his knowledge.

"I hardly know how. The otherworldly components within me must account for it," He ruefully reasoned.

"_'Otherworldly_'?" She pressed.

"Yes, I feel you should know my origins. I have promised them to you, anyhow. They are little reparation for the arrangements Septimus has made without your knowledge or consent. I admit this to you-- whom I know will not breathe a word of it to anyone- because I see it so within you-- and it is this: I do not agree at all with the manner in which Septimus has behaved toward, with and about you."

Madeleine brought her eyebrows close into one another.

"You see! At this admittance, you think, _'Whatever can he mean? Septimus is my friend. His manner is very well, indeed!'_ It is this that is at the root of my disagreement. You are so young, just a girl- unlearned, unprepared for what may lie ahead for you. You've had no suspicions! You are so fresh in this world! Septimus built your shelter out of such stone, that he did not realize one day you would step out of it. He did not realize that he would drag you from it! And you were stolen so quickly, that I fear you shall learn each hardship of the world from experience- as you began so last night!" This had been Archibald's turn to advance upon her and in her fear, she was trapped between him and a wall.

"Do not go on!" She shouted, hoping no others had heard.

"Please... I shall speak no more on that subject, but to say that, to me, yours is the only mind that has never held malicious thoughts. In yourself, you keep kindness and innocence, but now there is sadness too. Some on my behalf, for how I have behaved just now. I beg you, do not feel such sorrow, it is death itself to bare. Let me tell you of myself. We can forget this prior matter, or look passed it, at the least," He was affected by her thoughts, painfully so.

She could not behold the despair in his singularly beauteous face any longer. His watery blue eyes, with their brow bone set so near them, made a picture of heartache that Madeleine felt she would never be able to forget.

She surprised him then, for she acted without real thought. Her arms flew around him and his immediately followed suit. They clung to each other and Madeleine cried in their pain.

The only thoughts Archibald could make out were, _'You are kind! You are so kind! Never let go of me, I shall die! Never! Never let go of me! You are so good, Archibald! Such a friend! Such a kind, good friend!'_

He obliged her, feeling something kindred between them. He regretted bringing up his aversion to Septimus' plans. Her innocence astounded him, and it was that naivety that he felt sealed her to him. The calm she exhibited drew him to her, and he was pleased she thought of him as a friend, despite his former outburst. She thought his fears against Septimus were foolish...

... But she could not read the Prince's mind. Nor could she have comprehended everything within. Archibald remembered some of the things he had perceived earlier, while being briefed. Few of them were innocent.

Her thoughts began to quiet and she looked at Archibald soberly.

She was communicating without words, '_Tell me now, about yourself. I would like to know.'_ She sat upon the bed and waited for him to begin.

"As to what I am," He started with, "Well, we are called many things. I am half human to my wonderful mother's credit. I believe it is in my soul that I hold my more human habits." Here he stopped and paced for a few moments. "As to the other half of myself... The proper phrase is _Aos Sí_, but they have many personas. Elementals, sylphs, fae- they might be named thus as well. It is unusual for them to approach or even be seen by human eyes, however, their youths are quite mischievous. Do you wish me to go on?" He queried.

"Yes, yes, I should like to hear all!" She encouraged him.

"One night, when my mother was only a young girl of 15, she was walking home from working on a farm. She lived in a small hut with her mother, father and older sister that was still three miles away when she heard a rustling from beside her. Being on the true path, she thought herself safe from the rather troublesome trees. She tread on, without fear, as she had traveled that way for over a year.

"'Lovely girl,' She heard a man say from behind her. When she looked back, she saw only the dark path behind her. She continued, until she heard, 'Pretty lass.' She turned again, but saw no one. When she looked forward, a young man stood before her. Being quite artful creatures, _Aos Sí_ are known to shift their appearance. As such, she saw before her a handsome young man, with blue eyes that shone bright in the darkness, and hair reminiscent of a black bird's plumage. He smiled at her widely and she felt there was something animalistic, but moreover reptilian about him that she knew was not quite right.

"'You'll pardon me, sir,' She excused herself and tried to push passed him. He took hold of her arm firmly and held her in place.

"'Perhaps you'll allow me to walk with you, my pretty lass?' The Man asked.

"'I can make my own way,' My mother replied. The Man did not release her, but instead stroked the side of her face. Under his heavily browed gaze, she felt herself grow weak. 'Sir, my mother and father expect me home soon, please...' Her pleading did not sway him. He fixed his mouth upon her own."

Madeleine gasped.

"Fully against her will, the Man dragged her into the dark forest and I fear I need not say what transpired. Nine months later, I was produced. The village's mystic woman was able to explain what had occurred, having heard the odd tale of such dalliances before. Never had she heard of an _Aos Sí_ of the male variety seducing a human girl. Only the other way 'round. So none could predict what such a child would turn out to be.

"As I grew, my mother thought she had birthed a commonplace bastard, though she loved me. The village people were kind and understood her plight. When I had reached the end of my boyhood, my unnatural traits began to present themselves. I worked as a farm hand from the time I was seven, and while I had always been strong- my true potential was not realized until I was 13 years old. At this time, a mare had fallen upon the farmer's son, and he was left unconscious. Being the only person around for miles, I bent to lift the thrashing animal and had done so with no difficulty. Soon, I discovered my speed, and I began to understand people's thoughts," He covered his face with his hands.

"My mother's thoughts were the first I had ever heard. She had never told me of my father, and it was blackly fitting that she should have been thinking of Him as my abilities developed. She thought of the violation against her and her hatred for the Man. I discerned her apprehension as I turned 15 and then 16- for my face was becoming his. It destroyed her to resent me for bearing his visage, and I know by observing her that I could be his twin just as well as his son. So I left home to work farther away, sending her my love and earnings. I couldn't bear hearing her think of _that _night each and every single time she saw my face.

"While away, I worked on another farm, doing harder labour. On some nights I would travel into town with the other work-folk and nurse a pint of whiskey. One particular night, a drunken man was boisterously throwing about challenges of strength- arm wrestling, as it were. I kept my head down, but a bloke from the farm insisted he try his hand against me. I attempted to decline and the man thought me a coward and weakling and eunuch. So, being young, I dared to defy him. His hand was against the table instantly. He spat his anger at me, enraged, thinking we country-folk had played him. He struck me, but I did not move, nor feel pain. When he took blows at my fellow workers, I incapacitated him justly.

"'Brooks! That is enough!' A regal voice had shouted from the top of the inn stairs. He descended and I released 'Brooks'.

"'Your man does not know his place, sir!' I told him.

"'You're right, young man. Brooks, you're hereby dismissed. Your drunken antics shall no longer be tolerated!' Brooks looked angry for a moment, then walked out the inn door and out of our sight.

"'Sir, he was only upset, the morning shall see him improved,' I reasoned, not wishing to make an enemy of Brooks. I tried to listen to the regal man's thoughts, but the inn was far too crowded.

"'Nonsense, now that it is vacant, what do you say to a position in the Royal Guard?' The man offered. I could not think of what to say.

"'I have no experience, sir, I am only 18 and have seen no quarrels-- save tonight,' I explained.

"'Your strength alone recommends you, boy. I am Prince Septimus of Stormhold. My company leaves here tomorrow night. You may have time to think upon my offer. Until then, let me know the manner of your strength.' We drank together, and I began to tell him what I have told you. That night, I informed the farmer that I would take my last wages or leave without them, should he not be able to supply them. In the morning, I left as a member of Septimus' guard. For the passed seven years I have been in Septimus' service.

"My mother was worried, but pleased that I had attained such a position. In the time that I had been away, I believe she loved me more than she ever had. She lives now in a cottage I built for her- dare I say, a fine cottage. She is still young and works embroidering cloth for bridal clothes. That is all I can think of to tell you," His eyes searched around her face and he nodded to assert that he was indeed finished.

"Oh, Archibald, I have never heard such a history!" She stopped speaking and let him freely roam her mind for a reaction. He read her remorse, but also her joy that such a terrible event had brought him forth. There was something else too, that he could not completely uncover, it was slightly veiled, even from Madeleine. Like it was something she couldn't bear to think of herself. It was a memory, he knew that much, that was somehow awakened by his story.

She was patting his hand in comfort when he repeated a phrase that he was able to decipher, "_'Come, sit next to me, Maddy. You'll see I'm not so very frightening.'"_

She ripped her hand away from him, "What did you just say? No one calls me by that name!... Why did you say that?" For the first time, he sensed deep hatred in her mind.

"There's a memory that went through your head, it was all I could see of it. You hide it well, better than I've ever encountered, and I sense it is for good reason. My apologies," He often times could not stop himself quoting remembrances.

"I cannot think of it, I will not. Though you have shared with me your hardships... I cannot reveal mine to you yet. Perhaps someday," She took his hand up again, "Yes, I promise to repay you with that memory someday."

The door that led to the sitting room opened and one of Dia's ladies entered. Archibald sheathed his sword which had instantly been drawn.

"I'm supposed to help her take off her clothes," The chit giggled. She was pretty, but her lack of intelligence was plainly worn upon her face.

"I'll be at the door, Madeleine," Archibald waited at the threshold, averting his gaze from the lounging ladies in the sitting room.

One of the girls called Lara approached him, "Good evening, Archibald," She purred at him.

"Is it, Lara?" He wondered.

"Oh, yes, very good, now that you are here. What are you doing with that pauper girl? Does she interest you so?" The dark beauty inquired.

"Very much, Lara," He sifted her rather predictable thoughts and finished, "Much more than you do tonight."

"And what of those other nights, lover? I remember a time when you sought me out, seasons ago now, but I recall each night. I am only a plaything- I know, but I thought you better than to discard people like dolls," She pouted at him. There was a real woe behind her intentions, and he did feel guilt.

"When I was a boy and my body won over my mind, I did things I now know were... Well, they could have been handled differently, Lara. I used you, and we have discussed this before. We were foolish and impetuous, and I was so weak that your exotic thoughts seduced me. Now that I have let you alone, I thought you would learn from our mistakes- as I have. I'm at my post, please disperse," He kindly pleaded with her.

She stood before him, staring into his face. The last thing he had wanted was to know what she was thinking. He had tried very hard to let her go and have her pursue some other man, but she clung to him. It had been three years since they last laid together and she would not release her obsession. He was glad that she was admiring his features, and not running lustful thoughts through her mind.

---------------------------------------

"What's your name?" Madeleine asked the girl helping her.

"I'm Antonia," She replied quickly. As she was pulling off the gown, she asked, "What have you and Archibald been up to in here? We all heard shouting. Lover's quarrel?"

"My father has just passed away... And a part of me is very angry. I unjustly attacked him- repeatedly- with my words," Madeleine recognized that she had behaved more badly than she had previously thought.

"Do the two of you have any plans for the night?" Antonia whispered while pulling off its cover, and unlacing the corset.

"No, why?"

"Because I don't have any more chores to do for Lady Dia, and I thought... If you weren't-- then the three of us could..." She trailed off and giggled. She pushed the corset to the floor.

"What are you getting at?" Madeleine snapped.

"We could all have a roll," She breathed into Madeleine's ear while groping up her front.

"ARCHIBALD!" Madeleine shrieked.

He pushed in with his sword drawn and saw Antonia backing away from the nearly naked Madeleine.

"I can finish undressing myself, thank you, Antonia," Madeleine told her politely. She shot her eyes from Antonia to Archibald, and he understood after peering into her thoughts. Antonia grinned at him as she left.

Archibald laughed, "It's a bit funny, Madeleine."

"It is not!" She shot at him, but she let a gasp of laughter escape her. "It is, isn't it?" And she collapsed on the bed in full-tilt laughter. "I've never been assaulted by a girl before!" She cackled.

The two of them were a real pair, chuckling and chortling away.

Madeleine stifled out, "She-she-ha! She's pulling off my clothes and all of sudden!-"

Archibald held himself up against the bedpost and finished her thought, "-She's got her hands all over you- and- and she wants to go to bed with us!"

As Madeleine lie strewn across the bed, she was looking upside-down into Archibald's laughing face. While still at it herself, she took hold about his neck and pulled his smiling mouth down to hers. Archibald knew he should have stopped her, but there was no intention behind it. He rifled quickly through her mind, and he saw that Madeleine didn't know why she had done it. She just wanted a first kiss, and nothing afterward. It was an impulse that he recognized as that of girlhood, and he heard her repent at taking too much wine. Before it was over, he had forgiven her.

After she had brought his lips against hers, Madeleine saw her error, but knew he understood her. At first it was less of a kiss and more like they were resting their faces together. Then, absent-mindedly, Madeleine licked her lips. Archibald felt her tongue against his mouth and he rest his hands beneath her head. He pressed into her and moved his mouth over hers.

She attempted to mimic him- for she was oblivious. His hair fell about their faces in a curtain and she felt more at ease. She closed her eyes, as she had seen others do before seeing each other off at the stables. Because their faces were inverted, she felt it the ideal for kissing- their noses couldn't get in the way. Archibald smiled against her when he perceived this. She licked her lips again, knowing the reaction it had garnered the first time. As it turns out, she was not prepared for his tongue to slide along her mouth in response.

"What are you doing?" She asked him in surprise, turning her head away.

"I can stop then?" He pulled away in relief.

"I... I didn't say that, I was just wondering what you were doing," She stuttered.

"It is only a part of a kiss, quite a natural occurrence, I assure you," He was uneasy about her ideas.

Her queries knew no bounds, "But why?"

"I have no idea, and I know what you're thinking- I shall not do it again," He backed away from her.

"I'm only curious, you know that. I'm not after you. I shant be a puppy afterwards, you know that as well. Something foolish in me wants to know what kissing is about, something light-hearted in me," She pulled herself up against one of the four posts around the bed. "Neither of us means a thing by it, and Harry is so afraid to kiss me- he thinks it might shatter me! Perhaps I could teach it to him, and he would not be so afraid. Please, it shall only be friendly. You can see I am innocent in my intentions! Look through my mind, go ahead."

What she said was true. "Do you know what harm can come from a thing when each party _'means nothing by it'_? I have had _'friendly'_ liasons before, Madeleine. They grow into passionate liasons and then spiteful ones. You think now your curiosity will stop, but how can you know? Your inqueries are juvenile and pure this time, but what comes after a kiss? A caress? A lifted skirt? If I begin this, how do I know that when I say _'No more'_, you won't go to someone else? Have I not been kind to you?" He had become rather upset, and did not want to look at her.

"You know all of the answers to those questions. Do you remember earlier, when you said that I might have to learn each trial of life from experience? Here is your chance to teach me. If my curiosity does not stop, though I know it will, would it not be best that I come to you for guidance," Her rationalization seemed sound to her, but, of course, she did not think there was any trouble at all.

He moved closer to her again and began through his teeth, "You know so little of me, and you see not the slightest bit of danger." He moved closer still, calming his features. "I could mesmerize you, Madeleine. Enrapture you. Seduce you," He warned her.

She giggled at him, "No you couldn't, Archibald."

He stopped a few feet from the bed, "Ask Mr. Saxon to kiss you tomorrow, perhaps his mind will have changed. Stop this foolishness. Agreed?"

"You've got yourself a deal," She agreed.

He went back to the door to take up post.

"Archibald, I'm sorry for treating you so poorly tonight. I shouted at you, and then I assaulted you. Please accept?" Madeleine pulled the bedclothes over herself. "I shall go to sleep now, and do you no further injury. The last thing we say to each other should be kind and true, I think."

"No offense was taken, but I forgive you for the sake of your conscience." He thought of something kind and true, "Tonight, you were the most lovely girl in all of Stormhold."

"And you are the most beautiful man in all the earth," She responded with a yawn. He laughed dryly, for she believed it.

"Good night, Madeleine."

"Good night, Archibald."


End file.
